The Little Moments
by Jungle Jenna
Summary: All the neighborhood girls know him as "that awful Snape boy", but Lily knows him as Sev...


_A/N: This is based on a collection of little moments between Sev and Lily that have been swirling around my brain for some time. It's my way of filling the gaps in what I already know about them and trying to make sense of their friendship. This isn't necessarily a one-shot, but it's not a full-fledged story either. If you have requests for things you'd like to see, feel free to let me know. I wanted to post what I've already written to test the waters, so to speak, and see if there is an interest for its continuation. Please let me know what you think!_

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**1.**

The younger girl, the one with pale, pale skin and dark red hair, soars through the air like a ball shot from a cannon, her carefree laughter renting the summer air. _Such beautiful, effortless magic, _he sighs wistfully.

**2.**

All the neighborhood girls tell her what a horrid boy he is – how he skulks, and snoops, and throws rocks at unsuspecting children. They say he's mean, and dirty, and resembles a bat. They always see him prowling through the streets and woods, his overlarge coat flapping at his heels and his oily, black hair swinging about his face.

All the neighborhood girls know him as Bat Boy, but Lily knows him as Sev.

She's not sure if she should be embarrassed by how quickly they become friends, but she can't help talking to him. He knows so much about a world she so desperately longs for to be real.

At first, Lily disapproves of Bat Boy just as much as everyone else. He called her a witch, after all, and everyone knows that's not a very nice thing to say to somebody. She was intent on disliking him because Tuney disapproved of him (and Tuney was usually right about everything), but then she encountered the strange boy in the park for a second time.

He was seated, cross-legged, in the shade of a clump of bushes. His eyes were fixed intently upon a smooth, flat tock in his open palm, his face puckered in concentration. Slowly, the rock lifted an inch or so above his hand and it began to spin, faster and faster, until she nearly felt sick from the motion. With a sudden jolt of understanding, she realized he could make strange things happen too, that he understood, and that there was nothing wrong with her, like her parents and sister believed.

The oddly-dressed boy she comes to know as Severus Snape isn't quite what the others claim. It's true that he sulks and snoops and smells a little, but his black eyes and thin face are eager, his smile is crooked and shy, and there is always an air of nervous excitement about him when they talk of magic. It's apparent to her that he is lonely, insecure, and deeply afraid, though also confident in the belief that life will be better outside the confines of his troubled home.

Sometimes Lily feels he acts far too old for his age, as though he knows things most children do not and never will, and other times it's as if he's wandered the wilderness all his life. His parents have left him to fend for himself and in turn, he has created his own rules and lacks a sense of accountability to others. Lily's anger over his behavior confuses him, though he tries very hard to please her. She senses his bitter frustration and realizes she is teaching him just as much as he is teaching her.

**3. **

There is something different about her son, as of late. His behavior has been, in a word, erratic. Eileen first notices the change shortly after his ninth birthday. Once, during a Potions lesson one afternoon, he nearly loses a finger chopping up ginger root, as he is too busy glancing out the kitchen window, which has a perfect view of the rubbish-strewn river they live by. Even after Eileen scolds him profusely for his negligence, he continues to fidget until she is forced to throw him out of the house.

Every afternoon, he tears through the back door, his overlarge coat billowing away from his skinny form. She peers through the gap in the moth-eaten curtains and watches as her son crosses the bridge to the other side of the river, where she knows there are rows of well-kept houses and a playground. The river, in a way, divides all that is clean and wholesome from everything that is dank and derelict, she reflects with a flare of resentment.

Each one of her son's departures is charged with enthusiasm, though there is no telling what mood he will be in when he returns. Whatever is going on with him, it either causes him to slam doors and sulk in his bedroom, or strut around the house with a spring in his step, singing low under his breath.

"_Oh, come and stir my cauldron,_

_And if you do it right,_

_I'll boil you up some hot, strong love,_

_To keep you warm tonight."_

_..._

Summer comes to a swift end.

It's growing dark outside and Severus still hasn't come home. Worried something might've happened to him, she ventures outside, calling his name. It doesn't take her long to find him. He is playing down the river with a girl she's never seen before. The girl looks about nine or ten, around her son's age, and her clothes, despite many grass stains, are new and of good quality. Her red hair and lily white skin contrasts deeply with her son's dark and sallow features. There is something unsettling in his gaze, as he watches the pretty girl. It is a look beyond his years, unapologetically selfish and yearning.

"Severus!" she calls, startling the two children. "Your father is nearly home, it's time to come inside!"

He jumps to his feet, utters a lingering goodbye, and runs to join her.

"Who is your friend?" Eileen inquires as they walk beneath a canopy of leaves.

"Just a girl," he shrugs, staring down at his worn boots.

"A Muggle?" she asks, raising a sharp brow.

"Not quite," he replies evasively.

There is a brief silence, pierced only by the chirp of crickets.

"Is she the first in her family?" she asks coolly.

"Yeah," he says, "but she's got loads of magic! I've seen her, mum. When she jumps from the swings at the park, she literally floats in mid-air! And – and she does this thing with a flower, where –."

"You will need to tread carefully, Severus," she interrupts, her voice quiet but stern. "As you very well know, you have only two years left before you leave for Hogwarts."

"But she'll get the letter too!" he protests. "We'll both be at Hogwarts."

"Yes, that may be the case," she continues, "but you are bound for Slytherin and your little friend, well, there is no guaranteeing where she will be sorted. Understand this, Severus: Slytherin house, along with everything else it represents, caters to the wealthy pureblood. You are neither of those things. Once you're at school, it's your responsibility to prove yourself worthy. The easiest way to draw negative attention to yourself is to go 'round meddling with the wrong sort."

"She could be in Slytherin," he argues quietly, a faint line appearing between his heavy brows.

Eileen stares off into the distance. "We'll see," she sighs, her voice full of skepticism.

"_You _married a Muggle!" he exclaims sullenly.

Her upper lip curls in disdain. "Yes," she sneers, "and we both know how well _that _turned out."

That evening, after Tobias returns home from work, Eileen ladles cabbage stew into three bowls. The little family sits around a rickety wooden table, the air heavy with tension, as usual. While Tobias rants and raves about work, Eileen notices that Severus is prodding his share of limp cabbage around his bowl with a spoon, his elbow resting on the table, and his head cradled in one hand.

_It's for the best, _she reassures herself, as she stares into Tobias's cold, bitter eyes. _He is destined for greater things than this..._

**4. **

Severus wanders into their little clump of trees by the river with a fresh bruise, livid and swollen, beneath his left eye. Lily points to it and he covers it protectively with his hands, turning sharply away. She manages to coax him into a sitting position beside her and removes his hands. He refuses to meet her eyes, his black ones tightly screwed shut. His features tremble slightly, as though he's fighting the urge to weep.

Lily hesitates before she reaches forward and strokes the tender place beneath his eye. His small, stringy body immediately coils beneath her touch, his shoulders slightly hunched, his hands clenching. He hardly moves an inch as Lily repeats the motion, the pads of her fingers like a tender whisper against his skin, and she briefly wonders if he's even breathing. To her surprise, his head falls forward and lands on her pale shoulder, as if a series of imaginary strings holding him up had been severed all at once.

She continues to stroke his face for a long time, the air around them filled with sounds of the rushing river and twittering birds. Suddenly, he jerks away and stares at her, flushed with shame over his display of weakness. Before she has a chance to speak, he runs away to his home on Spinner's End without a backward glance. He waits until the bruise has faded before he agrees to see her again. He claims a boy from his neighborhood threw a rock at him, but the details of his story are distant and vague. His eyes are hollow, like dark tunnels, and she shivers involuntarily, somehow sensing this to be a first in a long chain of events.

**5.**

He and Lily are finally off to Hogwarts and Severus is both exhilarated and terribly afraid. For the past two years, he has been Lily's sole link to the magical world, the one person she could confide in. Well, now that they'll be at school… she'll be surrounded by lots of other witches and wizards, others just like him… What if… What if she realizes she doesn't need him anymore? What if she leaves him behind?

…

_So, _he thinks glumly, as Lily runs to join the Gryffindor table, _she won't be in Slytherin with me, after all. I should've seen it coming. This was too good to last… _But then Lily looks over her shoulder at him and she's smiling, though her eyes are deeply sad. She doesn't know it, but that one gesture makes a world of difference.

**6. **

Severus is thirteen. His father makes him sit next to him on the couch, in front of the blaring telly. He points to women with painted faces and feathered hair, who wear scarce clothing. His father tells him how beautiful they are, but Severus thinks they look like lewd clowns.

His mother irons his father's work clothes in a corner of the room, her head bowed and mouth pressed into a thin line. His mother is nothing like these women his father so admires. Her hair is lank and dull, her body thin and bony. Her wan, sallow face, so similar to his own, is etched with lines that tell their own sad tale. These lines speak of repression, loneliness, and sadness, and yet Severus finds them so infinitely familiar and dear. His thoughts turn to Lily, as they so frequently do. _I swear, if I'm lucky enough to have her, she will never want for anything, _he vows.

**7. **

Lily spends the first few weeks of their summer vacation abroad and when she returns, the days are filled with sunshine, and bare feet, and sunlight slanting through white cotton dresses. One afternoon, while his mother is out shopping at the market and his father is at work, they sneak inside his house to look over his mother's more valuable spell books that are locked away in a trunk. Lily sprawls out on his musty, rumpled bed and reads aloud to him, as he perches on a far corner and watches her uneasily from his periphery. At night, he begins to snog his pillow, pretending it is Lily he is holding, with her pale, unblemished skin and thick, dark red hair full of possibilities against a backdrop of cobwebs, dirty windows, and peeling wallpaper.

One particularly hot day, they retreat to Lily's house for shelter. They drink freshly-squeezed lemonade from clean glasses filled with sparkling ice and chatter idly about the oncoming year at Hogwarts. Lily's mother calls her downstairs and she flees her bedroom, leaving Severus to wander aimlessly among her belongings. He drinks in the unmade bed, the many tubes of lipstick scattered across her dresser, the posters and photographs plastered to her walls – some winking and waving and others as still as a marble statue. There is a tapping at the window. He unlatches it and a large, sleek, unfamiliar bird swoops in, dropping a letter on the floor. Curious, Severus unfolds it and reads it.

_Beautiful Lily,_

_We spent so little time together, and yet I feel like I've known you for ages! I've never met a girl like you before – you're funny, smart, and despite what you claim, a rather fine kisser, if I may be so bold. Perhaps once you've passed your Apparition exam, we can meet sometime? I deeply regret that we don't attend the same school._

_Please write soon!_

_Eliott_

Lily returns to find the letter trembling in Severus's hand. She rushes forward and snatches it front his grasp.

"What do you think you're doing, snooping through my personal things!" she exclaims, her green eyes narrowed to slits.

"Forget to tell me about _Eliott, _did you?" he sneers, his chest swelling indignantly and eyes prickling strangely. "Funny, I thought _best _friends were supposed to tell each other everything!"

Lily frowns and stares at her feet, suddenly abashed. "I was afraid to tell you," she says in a very small voice.

"Why?" he demands.

"Didn't think you would understand," she mutters. "I met him while my family and I were in France. He attends Beauxbatons, you see. He's quite a bit older than us. I lied and told him I was sixteen because he said I was pretty, and I didn't know what else to do. I just wanted to have a little fun with someone outside school, you know?" Lily crosses her arms and looks away. "I only spent one afternoon with him and now he won't leave me alone."

"You kissed him," he says dully, growing sour at the thought of his pillow, lying cold and forgotten in his bedroom.

"Only once!" she protests, her tone pleading. "I've never kissed anyone before, Sev. It was a little freaky, to be honest. Please don't be cross with me."

A heavy silence follows.

With one look at her earnest face, Severus forces himself to nod and smile, as though everything is just peachy; but as he walks home that night, he allows the floodgates to open. Jealousy, he decides, is the worst emotion known to mankind. How is it possible to be struck so quickly with a leaden mixture of fury and despair? He feels, somehow, that he's failed before he's even begun to try.

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_A/N: What do you think? Should I continue?_


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